Our stories matter.
Stories are an entry point for us to become known. Where the fertile space is cleared for greater understanding, compassion and appreciation. Where others can be inspired and influenced, and connections, relationships can flourish.
My recent blog post,The Importance of Sharing Our Stories, focused on how telling our stories helps to create authentic, loving and transformative relationships with God, others and our self.
But there is a flip side to the importance of telling our stories.
For it is not just important to tell our stories, but it is equally important that others listen to our stories.
This is not just casual, superficial type of listening. It is a profound form of listening, where someone takes the time to pause, turn towards us, and become intentional about listening.
A listening with both our minds, and our hearts.
Listening carefully to what is being verbalized, but being particularly attentive to the underlying heartbeats of the words.
When we actively listen, we validate the speaker. Our attention affirms they matter. That their experiences matter. And whatever is on their heart and mind matters.
Listening is a powerful way to confirm we care. It is our assurance that we will remain steadfast, not just for the easy summer seasons, but also through hard winter seasons.
Listening well is a generous gift, one that communicates interest, compassion, grace.
I am currently taking a graduate course in seminary that is focusing on the Book of Job. In the book, Job unexpectedly faced massive losses – including the death of his 10 children, his flocks being wiped out, suffering his own illness, and being ostracized by his community. As a result, Job is suffering from debilitating grief, isolation, confusion and uncertainty.
As Job grieves, he struggles to understand God, and wrestles with trying to understand theological themes such as the brevity of life, the afterlife, and why God allows good people to suffer. Three of his companions come to comfort him, but they end up failing miserably.
They failed because they refused to listen, to sit with him in his grief. Instead, they lectured, questioned, advised, rationalized, and rebuked him. They argued with him. They blamed his sins, suggesting that they were to blame for his suffering.
Because his companions were critical and impatient, and talked more than they listened, Job ended up feeling completely unheard and misunderstood. He felt criticized and judged. Their cruelty and insensitivity ended up multiplying Job’s grief and pain.
How easy it is to be like Job’s community and companions. Where we either try to avoid someone who is suffering or if we try to provide support, we are more apt to talk than to listen. Offering what we believe is sage advice, quoting Scripture, using clichés.
It can be so tempting to avoid listening to someone’s story.
We can feel so overwhelmed with our own stories it can be intimidating to even think about stepping into someone else’s sorrow, adding more layers to our own.
Life can be busy, chaotic. We are exhausted. Schedules are tight
But, we are called to listen. To love wholeheartedly. To carry each other’s burdens. To serve one another. And wherever possible, lean in to help heal, restore, redeem.
At first, sitting with someone in their grief, and just listening, may feel awkward. It may be a new experience. It may be unfamiliar, because we are unsure about the language of loss and grief, and worry about what we should say.
So we may end up fumbling our way through. And may even end up being a bit like Job’s companions.
But, we can be certain that active listening is similar to any other skill or activity. In time, it does become easier with practice.
Eventually, we learn how to listen with open, invested, compassion hearts. Growing in our ability to accept and embrace the hard truths of another’s story.
Becoming able to breathe love and grace into others’ stories.
And in the process, we become transformed. Our hearts and hands and feet start speaking with compassion and mercy.
We just have to be brave enough to turn, and face one another. Making the choice to invest in each other, by both telling our stories, and listening to each others’ stories.
And as we engage in the mutual sharing of stories, we will open the spaces for new and promising and beautiful stories to be written.
Photo credits: Vidar Nordii-Mathisen, Nathan Rogers, Christina Gottardi, from Unsplash
Five Minutes Friday prompt: TURN
Good words here. Several years ago I went through a very dark time, culminating in a moment of suicide ideation. I wasn’t ready to share with very many people what I was dealing with, because I didn’t fully understand it myself. But, as it always does, word leaked out. A friend came by and, tears streaming down her face, asked me why I hadn’t told her. I can still feel the shock and irritation of that moment. My pain wasn’t about her, but she, whether consciously or not, made it about her. A powerful lesson in listening.
Marie, thanks for sharing some of your story. I agree, it can be so hard as we are walking through winter seasons to fully understand, and put words to exactly what has happened, and what we are feeling and thinking about it. You make such a good point about how sometimes we need space and time before we are ready to share even parts of our story with others.Or perhaps as you suggest in your comments,it is important that we each have the freedom to decide when and how much of our story we feel like sharing, and with whom we want to share it with. Telling our stories is important, but we need to be in control of who it is shared with, how much we choose to share, and when we want to share it. We each will make different choices, even with each of our own stories.
Good listening – where someone sits with us, asks us open ended questions about what we are thinking/feeling, reflects back what they think they hear us saying – helps us to process and work through our experiences. When a person draws or re-direct the focus back towards themselves – through a comment/behavior such as you are describing or saying things like “I have had that happen to me too, when….” or “I know just how you feel” or launching into advice or using cliches – prevents us from working through the issue and leading to us feeling unheard.
So it is through just listening. Reflecting back in short phrases what you think you have heard them share. Identifying and labelling the feelings they are struggling to express.Telling them you see them, and that you acknowledge their suffering. Encouraging them where they have exhibited positive qualities or steps in their story – such as acknowledging their bravery, risk taking, strength, insights. These are some profound ways to actively listen to someone’s story and let he or she know you care.
But we have to have grace, for so few people have been taught how to listen well in our culture. We need to show that there is a better way….
Sharing our stories and listening to the stories of others—-it’s what I’m passionate about! Thank you for this post that encourages others to do just that. My blog is focused on encouraging others to connect in authentic ways and storytelling is one of the best ways to do that! Blessings!
Carri, Thanks for your encouraging comments. I look forward to reading your blog and connecting. It sounds like we are passionate about similar topics and themes! Blessings to you too!
So true and so challenging! I can certainly tell when people are actively listening to me, and should strive to be actively present in order to do that for others! What a difference it makes!
Hi Courtney, you make such a good observation about how differently it feels for us when someone is actively listening to us. We feel cared about, validated, and heard. It is such a profoundly affirming experience. And you are so right – it is a great reminder that we need to be fully attentive and present when others are trying to share their stories with us. Thanks for your comments and for stopping by The Stones Call!
Anne I resonate with you. Like Carri, I also share this passion as I blog regularly on this topic. You are speaking my heart and soul, even using some of the same wording. What a blessing! For example; as you write “telling our stories helps to create authentic, loving and transformative relationships with God, others and our self.” My readers know I am passionate about creating safe places to help women, find wholeness in relationships with others, God, and oneself. I am affirmed by reading your post today. Thank you so much for sharing!
Joy, I am just delighted that the article’s topic and wording resonated with you! It sounds like we are kindred spirits! I look forward to taking a look at your blog and engaging with you there. Here’s to encouraging others to know the value of their stories and provide the spaces for others to share them! Blessings!
Talking is usually so much easier than listening. But a good listening ear is a skill so worth developing.
Lauren, yes, we all tend to be better at talking than really listening to one another. Yet, when we experience someone really listening to us and hearing what we are attempting to share that we feel deeply understood and connected to that person. There is a deep appreciation for their caring enough to listening and trying to understand what is on our hearts. It is a skill we can all learn and improve, so there is such hope. Thanks for visiting The Stones Call.